


Wings

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crazy!Dean, M/M, reverse!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 21:45:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7591531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean is the crazy angel and Castiel tries to get through to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wings

It had been about three minutes.

In the grand scheme of things, three minutes isn’t exactly a long time, but to stand alone for three solid minutes, thinking yourself into a spiral, it seemed closer to an eternity.

Cas supposed he had a lot to think about, definitely more than three minutes worth, but he could see Dean through the slim pane of glass in the door, surrounded by green, careless and without thought, and he knew without doubt that if he let himself slip further into the depths of his own issues, he’d never make that first movement, he’d never step through that door. Sooner or later, he’d have to face the consequences of the world he was living in.

“Cas?” Anna spoke up from beside him. She had been wringing her hands, but when she noticed, they were hastily stuffed into the pockets of her scrubs.

“Are you sure he wants to see me?”

“I’m not really sure about anything at this point, but I’ve tried a whole lotta things to make him feel more connected to reality and I’ve got Jack squat,” she sighed, “it’s can’t hurt, alright? Now would you stop loitering, surprisingly I have been given other things to do than tending to your crazy angel.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he braved that first step.

Dean was sat cross-legged on the grass just behind the mental institute, the sun lighting up his white medically-approved trousers like a Persil advert, stark contrast to the darkness where his beard was becoming unkempt. When he got his mind back, that would disappear. There was a butterfly resting against his knee, and the expression on his face shone utter contentment as he watched it. He just watched it, and he showed no signs of recognition as Cas knelt before him.

“Their wings are perfectly symmetrical,” Dean stated, airy and distant but not upset at all, “every single butterfly in the world has perfectly symmetrical wings, they’re uniform and faultless.”

“Is this what you’ve been doing? Looking at butterflies?”

“They remind me of my garrison,” if he had his sanity, Dean might have stuttered, or seemed more downcast, but in his current state of perpetual serenity he didn’t so much as twitch. “They are all perfect at being what they are, following the natural order. Beautiful to onlookers, but with poison on their wings. An unseen sting. I used to think I was this butterfly. Now I think I’m missing my wings.”

Even if Dean wouldn’t show how he felt, how he should be feeling, Cas was perfectly capable of displaying how utterly distraught he was. At that final blow, his face fell.

“You’re not broken beyond repair,” Cas stated calmly, gently pulling Dean’s hand between his own to try and make him look up, praying that what he said was true. “I can help, I promise, I can help you Dean. You’re not that butterfly, or, or you won’t be soon, not if I can help it.”

The butterfly flew off Dean’s knee, and when Dean’s looked up it was only to follow its path.

“I have always been that butterfly, I just convinced everyone I could fly.”

“Have you always been this stubbornly insightful?”

Dean finally, finally looked back at Cas.

“I have always been something else. I think I was always meant to be here, as part of your empire.”


End file.
